


Prince of the Mark

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Action, Fourth Age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2003-01-04
Packaged: 2018-04-06 23:01:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4239941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elfwine, the prince of the Riddermark, is in the process of learning to lead his people and has his own adventures in the Fourth Age of Middle Earth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Return of a Prince

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

It was in the middle of the afternoon. The sun stood high in the sky above Edoras, the capital of Rohan, land of the Horsemasters. Life was flourishing and everyone was busy in the city. Caravans were entering Edoras, Riders were moving in and out of the gates. Meduseld sparkled brightly in the sunlight, honouring its name: The Golden Hall.

Suddenly the sound of a blowing horn could be heard and the thundering of hooves that were approaching. The activities in the city stopped, for everyone knew what those noises meant. Elfwine, the only child of their King Éomer and his wife Lothíriel was coming home! Everyone turned around and started to cheer.

Not very long after a small group of Riders arrived in Edoras. In the front rode their leader. It was a striking young man who seemed to be very tall, even when he was compared to the other Rohirrim and even now he was riding a horse. Long dark wavy hair flowed in the wind underneath his helmet. He wore the attire of a Rider, a soldier from the Mark. He was dressed in mail, a helmet, and had a sword at his side, along with a bow and quiver on his back. That young man was Elfwine, Prince of the Riddermark.

The son of the King slowed his horse down and ordered his éored to do the same. Slowly the small group rode through Edoras, on their way to Meduseld. The Rohirrim cheered as the Riders rode by on their horses. They dismounted as they reached the stables.

Elfwine insisted on taking care of his horse himself. He knew that now he had returned he had to report back to his father, but that could wait. Wingfoot needed to be tended first. Not that he did not trust the stable boys, but Wingfoot would only allow his Rider to handle him.

As he tended the spirited horse, a group of Rohirric youth came to the stables. "

Prince Elfwine!"

 

When the young prince heard his name, he came out of Wingfoot's stable and the girls rushed over to him once they saw him. A smile appeared on his fair face, fairer than any had ever seen among the Rohirrim.

"Did someone call my name?"

" Yes."

The girls blushed as they saw him and bowed slightly. "We were wondering if you would come to the Green Plains Inn tonight, my lord. Widfara will be playing."

Elfwine frowned and scratched his chin. "I am not sure. I don't know at what time I will be finished with my duties. But I will see what I can do."

The girls cheered as they heard this and dozed off again. "We'll be waiting, my lord!"

Elfwine shook his head, while carrying saddle and bridle to the saddle chamber. After giving Wingfoot a well deserved meal, the prince of the Riddermark made his way to the Golden Hall.

It was quite a climb to the top of the hill, but not really a problem for the young man. He was greeted by Beornhelm, the guard of Meduseld's doors. "Good day, my lord. It is good to see you back in Edoras again."

Elfwine nodded and laughed. He gave the older man a friendly punch on the shoulder.

"It's good to see you too, Beornhelm."

"I will report to Éomer king that you have returned." And then the guard disappeared into the hall.


	2. Riding Reports

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elfwine, the prince of the Riddermark, is in the process of learning to lead his people and has his own adventures in the Fourth Age of Middle Earth.

Elfwine walked through the corridor of his home, in which he had grown up to maturity. It felt good to be back there again. It was nowhere like it was home and he longed to see his parents again. His eyes dwelled over the paintings on the walls of Rohans history: The Ride of Eorl The Young, Helm Hammerhand and his late uncle, Théoden Ednew.

Then he entered the big hall. There were a lot of people around at this time of day, mostly the advisors of his father, people he trusted the most. In the middle of the hall stood the throne of his father, who sat in it. His mother stood behind it, like Eowyn had done during the last ruling days of Théoden. Éomer rose as he saw his son coming in. The young man of Rohan stood before his father, took off his helmet and saluted to the King of Rohan. Hail, Éomer king. Éomer smiled. At ease, my son. Welcome home. Thank you father. Their tones were very formal now, since they were both in duty of their country at this moment.

"What reports do you bring, Marshal?"

Elfwine took a deep breath. "The villages are peaceful. Everything is well. It was only the day before yesterday that we received disturbing news. It needed our attention."

Éomer raised an eyebrow and urged his son to continue.

"My scouts had returned from the Eastfold and brought news from Lord Elfhelm. A large band of Orcs has entered Rohan. They are a warparty, destroying everything they encounter. Some of the eastern enclaves have already fallen and Elfhelms men have been tracking the Orcs down till the borders of the Eastmark. There we took over. According to my scouts the Orcs are heading towards Edoras."

"Are you sure?"

Elfwine nodded, he was certain of it. "Yes, my King. I have already made certain arrangements for our defense. I have sent half of my eored to the villages that the Orcs will run into first for better defense. I will go out there myself tomorrow again. A group of scouts has made camp near the borders of the Eastmark and as soon as they have news regarding the Orcs, they will send a messenger."

Éomer listened well to the reports of his son and nodded. "I see. The guards of Edoras will be doubled as well. Well done my son."

"Thank you, father."

The formalities were over with and now Queen Lothíriel stepped forward, reaching out to her only child, so she could embrace him.

"Elfwine, I am so glad to see you have come back home safely and sound."

Elfwine kissed his mother on her cheeks and returned the embrace. "I am glad to be back here, so I can see you too again, mother. But you needed not to worry about me. I can take care of myself."

Lothíriel smiled. She still looked very beautiful, even now she was becoming older. "I know. But you will always be my little boy."

The Queen of Rohan took her sons arm and let him and her husband escort her for a walk through Meduseld.

Éomer regarded his only son closely. He had grown again. In more ways than one and that was something he was very proud of. Being his heir, Éomer had wanted Elfwine to prepare for rulership early and that was why he had made his son a Marshal of the Mark at young age, just like had happened to himself. That way he would learn soon what it was like to be responsible for his peoples faith. And from what he heard from the Riders and the other Marshals Erkenbrand and Elfhelm, his efforts were paying off nicely.

When they walked pass an open door, Lothíriel started to smile. "A small friend arrived today as well. He is very anxious to see you." Elfwine looked up.

"A friend? Who?"

"See for yourself." Lothíriel opened the door a little wider and then Elfwine could see the guest.

It was a person who had the height of a child, yet looked older than Elfwine himself. He wore simple garments and was on bare feet. Those feet were rather big too and hairy. The guest was smoking a pipe and was unpacking his things. At his side hung a small horn.

"Master Holdwine!"

The Hobbit of the Shire, who was the Master of Buckland, looked up from his bag and started to smile. "

Elfwine, my lad!! Its so good to see you!"

Elfwine fell onto his knees and embraced Holdwine, who was otherwise known as Meriadoc Brandybuck of the Shire and knight of the Riddermark. Merry took a few steps backwards. "

Now let me look at you."

Elfwine rose and placed his hands on his waist.

"Well?"

"My my, you've grown, my boy. You're even taller than your father now."

Elfwine grinned. Éomer and Lothíriel smiled proudly and exchanged loving looks.

"Would you like to accompany us on our walk, Master Holdwine? I'm sure you've got a lot to tell." Merry put his travelling gear away and smiled. "Ofcourse."

The four of them left Meduseld and started to stroll down the hill to walk around Edoras. Elfwine and Merry were engaged in a discussion and they exchanged news from both the Shire and Rohan.

"What is happening in the Shire? Is everything well?"

Merry laughed and told him: "Master Samwise's wife Rose is pregnant again."

"Again?"

"Yes. It is not a big surprise. He always wanted a big family. Everything is well. The mallorn is growing greatly. It is one of the most beautiful trees I've seen in the Shire. And how is life here?" I've just returned from a patrol with my éored. Orcs have entered Rohan. I will go back to the plains tomorrow and stand on guard there. Those Orcs will not continue their raids for long."

The young man's voice sounded feisty and he had a grin on his face.

"Make sure to kill one of the foul creatures for me." Merry gave Elfwine a friendly punch on the back.

"I will, Master Holdwine. You could join us if you would like."

Merry thought about that one for a moment.

"No, Elfwine. My time for fighting is over. Ill leave that to you."

Elfwine looked around. "Speaking of fighting. I still have duties to perform. I will see you at dinner."

The Marshall of Edoras gave his mother a kiss on the cheek and then rushed off to his office.

Éomer, Lothíriel and Merry watched the young man rush off and smiled. "He is a fine young man, Éomer. You can be proud of him." Éomer looked at his small and old friend. "I am, Master Holdwine."


	3. Forth Eorlingas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elfwine, the prince of the Riddermark, is in the process of learning to lead his people and has his own adventures in the Fourth Age of Middle Earth.

  


Forth Éorlingas!!  
  


Just before the breaking of the dawn many people were already awake in the city of Edoras. The activities were overflowing. Bakers were baking bread in their ovens, stable hands were letting the Méaras walking, the watches were traded. In front of the Golden Hall of Meduseld stood a company of Riders.The morning sun shone brightly upon their helmets and sparkled upon the steel of their spears. The fiery horses snorted and stomped impatiently with their hooves on the ground. Their well tended fur shone in the sunlight. The Éorlingas were waiting for their captain.

Several seconds later the doors of the stronghold opened. The first who was to come out was King Éomer himself. With respect the Éorlingas bowed for their king.

"Hail, King of the Mark!"

Éomer smiled and raised his hand as a greeting. Queen Lothíriel emerged from the doors as well and joined her husband. Shining like the early morning light she looked up at him and he looked lovingly at her, while he took her hand. The royal couple had come to wave their son goodbye.

Elfwine emerged from the stronghold shortly after his parents. He placed his helmet upon his head and then his equipment was complete. At his side was his sword and on his back he carried a quiver with arrows and a bow. The worth of that weapon had he learned to acknowledge by the people of his mother, but most by Legolas, an Elf from Eryn Lasgalen and one of the Nine Companions. The young prince of Rohan was ready to ride to the north. He walked to Wingfoot and mounted his fiery horse. Then he turned to his parents.

"This shouldn't take long, father. We should be back again within two days, tomorrow evening at its latest."

" Do not underestimate the Orcs, son. They are tougher opponents than you think. "

Lothíriel supported her husband. She had a difficult time realising that her son was not a little boy anymore, but had become a man. To her he was still her little boy.

Elfwine had not been a very difficult child. He seemed much like both of his parents, could be calm as well as tough and fiery and he loved battle. Also had he inherited the love for horses of his father. It surprised no one that the boy could ride a horse before he could walk.

"Listen to your father, Elfwine. He knows what he's talking about."

"Yes, mother. Do not worry, I can handle it. Besides, I made a promise to Master Holdwine I would kill some Orcs for him."

Elfwine grinned and blew his horn, that had been made especially for him. "Forth Éorlingas!!!" Then Elfwine and his éored left Edoras.

Several hours passed without anything happening and Elfwine and his men made very good time. The horses were walking greedily, glad they could stretch their legs again for a long ride. The weather was helping the Riders as well. They passed several valleys, in which the Rohirrim had built settlements, without stopping.

One of the scouts Elfwine had sent ahead returned to him. The Rider saluted. "What have you found, Godric?"

The young man answered immediately. "No good news, my lord. Not far from here lies the corpse of one of our men. He's been shot in the back and he carried a message."

 

Quickly Elfwine took the piece of paper and started to read. Then he looked up again at his men. "We have to make haste. The Orcs have attacked the settlements." And so they urged their horses to run.

In the afternoon Elfwines éored reached a smoking settlement. It was suspiciously quiet, more quiet than usual. Elfwine ordered his men to stop. Silently the Riders dismounted. The ones who had brought bows along held these ready. Carefully they searched through the settlement. What they saw, made their stomachs turn around. All buildings had been destroyed. The roofs, made of straw, were still smoking. Between the ruins lay the mutilated corpses of the inhabitants. No one had been spared. Shocked, Elfwine stepped backwards when he discovered the corpses of a couple of children. He had to try his best not to vomit where he was standing.

"What in Helm's name happened here?"

The Rohirrim turned around and looked at the Rider who had spoken that question out loud. It was a young man, younger than Elfwine, with the name Alnoth. The horror was displayed on his face. One of the elder Rohirrim of the éored answered him.

"Orcs, my boy. This is the handywork of Orcs. Those foul beasts are known for their urge to destroy."

Elfwine walked back to his horse and mounted it again. "We must continue and try to catch up with them. Let's pray it is not too late for the other settlements. The dead will be buried later."

Without hesitation the Rohirrim followed the orders of their young captain, burning with the desire to face those Orcs.

The Rohirrim hunted across the plains of their beloved country. Their will to stop the Orcs before they would make matters worse was urging them on. The horses ran as fast as they could carry their riders. Sweat was dripping over their fur. Elfwine rode in the front. The tail of his helmet flowed behind him and his dark hair waved in the wind as well, caused by his speed. His eyes were no longer blue, but small fires burning of feistiness. Several thoughts flashed through his mind. What should he do if they were too late? What if they were still on time? And how would he have to get the people into safety that quickly? Would it be a larger band of Orcs than had been thought? And what if it was? These men were under his command and if something happened to them, then he was the one responsible for that. Elfwine tried to banish those thoughts from his mind. First they had to find those Orcs and then he would see further.

Two of the Rider who had gone further to scout the area, returned and reported their news to their captain. "A great amount of smoke is gathering in the air. I think we might have found the Orcs, sir. "

Elfwine did not think for a moment and signalled Wingfoot to ride faster. He grabbed his horn and blew it several times loudly.

"Forth Éorlingas!! For the Mark!"

"For the Mark!!"

Furious and determined the éored resumed it's way, ready to face the Orcs.

It didn't take long before Elfwines éored reached the place where the smoke was coming from. The settlement was not very big, at the most a man or 100, excluding the horses. Most of the houses, including the great barn, were on fire. In panic the people ran into every direction possible. The animals had escaped. Between the houses there had clearly been a fight. On the ground lay corpses of several beings. The horn of Elfwine could be heard everywhere and made the noises stop. People came out of their shelters to see what was going on. They started to cheer out loud when they saw the son of their King and his éored.

"Elfwine! Elfwine for Éomer!"

"Elfwine for the Éorlingas!"

As soon as they had reached the settlement, the men dismounted. Elfwine left his horse to one of his men. The head of the settlement rushed forward to greet Elfwine and lowered himself onto one knee.

"My Lord."

The young man signalled the man to rise. "Please, leave the formalities behind, good sir. I did not come here for this."

"It is good to have you here, my lord. The Orcs..."

"How many of them?"

"At least 150, sir. They fled as they heard your horn, but I think they will come back here soon."

"Then we must make a new defense quickly."

Quickly Elfwine ordered his men to catch the running animals. The remaining inhabitants of the village were placed into the basement underneath the great barn. Fires were put out, but the rest remained as it was. Archers hid upon the roofs of the houses and the others of the éored remained in the barn until the Orcs would attack. When everything was ready, all they could was wait for a new attack.

The Orcs did not make them wait for long. A cloud of dust rose above the plains of Rohan and approached at great speed. The archers held their bows ready, to make the first attack. The roars fo the Orcs cleaved the deadly silence and made the remaining inhabitants of the village shiver. As soon as the first Orcs appeared between the piles of ruin, several arrows shot through the air. They hit their targets and several Orcs fell down to the ground. The others did not pay any heed to it. They just ran through.

At that moment the Riders jumped out of their hiding places. They threw themselves onto their enemies, determined to make an end to their miserable lives. The Orcs on the other hand didnt know the word stop at all either. In groups they attacked every single Rider. Their desire to kill and destroy was great. Elfwine fought along in the first wave. His sword Fyrblead, a gift of the King Elessar and Queen Arwen Undomiel of Gondor and Arnor, sparkled in the sunlight and lowered repeatedly into his foes.

The young prince had a very own opinion about the task of high rank officers. They had to fight along in battles to give the good example and be an inspiration for the other soldiers. For if they did not find it worth it to die for the good cause, then why would a normal soldier do that?

Even at his young age Elfwine was a charismatic leader, loved by many. There was no doubt that he would become just as great a leader as his father was now, when his time would come.

One of the Orcs caught Elfwine off his guard and threw himself upon him. The young prince cried out as he fell to the ground, crushed by the weight of the rather large Orc. His sword fell out of his hands and now he was defenceless. Other Orcs saw what happened to the leader of the Humans and grabbed the chance with both hands. They too went to have a good kill. Elfwine tried to defend himself with his fists and feet, but he was outnumbered and overpowered. There was no way he could escape and his companions were too occupied themselves to come to his aid.

The young Marshal of the Mark fought with everything he had inside him, determined not to give in to the foul creatures that tried to kill him. He was lucky. The Orcs had started to fight amongst themselves about who was allowed to kill the Prince of Rohan and in the turmoil, Elfwine started to crawl out from underneath them and was able to grab his sword. He crawled onto his feet and finished the Orcs off. When the foul creations of Melkor, the First Dark Lord, realised what was happening, it was already too late. They found their deaths by the hand of young Prince.  
  
  
  



	4. Royal Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elfwine, the prince of the Riddermark, is in the process of learning to lead his people and has his own adventures in the Fourth Age of Middle Earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I will give some explanations for the terms Ive been using in the story.

The fight was over. A small band of Orcs had found their deaths by the hands of the Rohirrim. They would no longer raid the plains of Rohan any longer. Elfwine sheathed his sword and started to inspect his troops. Léowine, one of the older Riders, reported to him.

"My lord, we have lost 5 of our men, 4 horses and 10 of our men are injured."

The young prince and Marshal of the Riddermark nodded. "Burn the corpses of the Orcs. I don't want those foul beasts rotting on our green plains. The injured will return to Edoras. The deceased will be brought back to the capital as well to receive a proper burial there. As for the horses, we must conduct the Releasing* ceremony for them. "

"Yes, my lord."

Those arrangements were being made and the villagers who had survived helped the Riders out. The injured were being tended as good as was possible and prepared them for the journey to Edoras. A small part of the éored would stay at the village to help rebuild it.

The next morning, after the injured and deceased had left, Elfwine and Léowine discussed the last arrangements. "You're in command of the men here. After the area has been secured you will return to Edoras. "

"And you, my lord?"

Elfwine mounted Wingfoot and placed his helmet on his head. "I'm taking the rest of the éored with me to hunt the rest of the Orcs down. The band we fought was very small, while the scouts reported of a very large warparty. Alnoth has found several tracks in the western direction. I am going after them."

Léowine bowed. "Aye, it will happen as you commanded, my lord."

The éored was assembled and Elfwine blew his horn as a sign of departure. And then the Riders of Rohan took off.

Elfwine led his éored across the plains, sending out the scouts time after time, to see if they were following the right track. The threat of the Orcs should be dealt with now, before they could harm any other of the settlements in Rohan. It was his job to protect his people, not only now but also later when he would be king. His determination caused him to urge Wingfoot to go faster and the éored quickly followed their captains example.

The sun was already high in the sky when they at last caught up with the Orcs. The foul creatures were seeking shadow to escape from the burning sun. But there were not many trees on the plains and so they found no way to escape the searing sun. Elfwine felt the blood of his ancestors rushing through his veins as the lust for the battle took control. He unsheathed his sword and blew his horn. He wanted to let the Orcs know that they were coming, for they were on his ground and they had no advantage here.

"Forth Éorlingas!!"

And so the Riders stumbled upon the Orcs. They mingled among them and overbore them with their horses. The Orcs were screaming and fought back. The hooves of the horses were everywhere and the Rohirrim sang their battle songs. Elfwine jumped off Wingfoot and threw himself on an Orc. The Orcs were many and there was no time to see how everyone was doing. Suddenly he heard a fearsome cry and looked up. Alnoth was fighting three Orcs, who were determined to bring him down and they were too strong for him. Elfwine quickly dropped his sword and grabbed his deadly bow and arrows. He took aim and shot.

As he did so his flanks were off guard and so he provoked an attack from the side of the Orcs. They did not hesitate and immediately used the opportunity to their advantage. Elfwine dropped to his knees as he was struck by the foul creatures. His bow was dropped to the ground. Quickly he tried to reach for his sword, but the Orcs were faster. They kicked his sword away and grabbed the young prince of the Mark.

It did not look good for the Riders. The Orcs were stronger than anticipated and could handle the sunlight. They were much tougher than usual. Alnoth saw how his captain was being molested by the Orcs. They were beating the life out of him. Elfwine felt his strength leave him. He had tried to fight the Orcs off, but now he could not bring it up anymore. He felt himself getting weaker and the only thing he heard was the sound of the fists, the feet and the weapon clashing.

The sudden sound of a blowing horn pierced through the air and the thundering sounds of approaching hooves reached the ears of the fighting company. A cloud of dust was closing in and from out of that dust came a group of fifty riders who came straight towards the battle. They were led by an older man and next to him rode a younger man with a star on his left shoulder. They were both dark haired and one the older mans brow shone a red sparkling star. A banner was unfolded and a dark banner with a white tree and seven stars was revealed.

The Riders under Elfwine's command started to cheer. "Gondor!!! Gondor for Elfwine!!"

Now it seemed the odds had turned against the Orcs. They were outnumbered by the knights of Gondor and the troops were fresh and unharmed. They made quick work of finishing the Orcs. The Orcs were defeated and the survivors did not know how quickly to flee when they saw who it was that had come. After the Orcs had left the battlefield, the two front riders dismounted and walked over to the side of the young prince, who lay on the ground. They were Aragorn Elessar, King of Gondor and Arnor and his son and heir Eldarion.

King Elessar kneeled down near Elfwines side and quickly examined the young prince. He frowned as he saw the injuries. Elfwine then opened his eyes and mumbled weakly: "Is it over?"

The Dúnadan nodded gently and smiled. "Yes, Elfwine."

"Good, that is good. How many horses and people did I lose?"

"That is not important now. You must rest."

Elfwine shook his head. "Can't rest. Must take care of my people."

Then the son of Éomer lost consciousness. Elessar lifted Elfwine up and turned to his son. "Eldarion, make sure the injured of prince Elfwines éored are able to travel back to Edoras. Bury the dead. Elfwine is in need of immediate aid. I am taking him to Edoras as quickly as possible. I will meet you at there."

"Yes father."

Aragorn mounted his horse and was handed Elfwines unconscious form by his son. Then the King quickly motioned his horse to make speed and soon disappeared out of sight.

It happened as the King of Gondor and Arnor had commanded and soon the injured were prepared for their journey to Edoras. They had suffered heavy losses, men and horses. It was a black day.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Authors Notes: Here I will give some explanations for the terms Ive been using in the story.

1: éored: the main military division of the Rohirrim, normally consisting of one hundred and twenty Riders. The lords of the Rohirrim can put it to use as they see fit.

2: The Releasing Ceremony: a ceremony that is performed by the Rider when his horse has died. He carries a bracelet of the horses hair. That is being cut and burned and the horse as well, if it can be retrieved.


	5. A Time of Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elfwine, the prince of the Riddermark, is in the process of learning to lead his people and has his own adventures in the Fourth Age of Middle Earth.

A shadow had fallen over the Golden Hall of Meduseld. Everyone was silent and occasionally threw a glance towards the gates. Inside the great hall King Éomer and Queen Lothíriel sat upon their thrones. Their faces looked worried, for their son had not returned home and the only news they had received since his departure was that he had continued to chase the Orcs. Beside them sat master Holdwine and Éowyn, the Lady of Ithilien, and her husband Faramir, who were in Edoras for a visit.

"Brother, you must keep faith. Perhaps Elfwine is only delayed because of the Orcs."

"Then he would have sent a messenger." Éomer rose from his chair. "I am gonna look for him myself."

Before the King could gather his guard, the Doorwarden Beornhelm entered the Hall. He kneeled in front of his King. "Hail, Lord of the Mark." Lothíriel rose from her chair and looked hopefully at the guard. "Any news from my son, Beornhelm?" Slowly the Man of Rohan nodded and looked up at his King. "Yes, my Lord."

Lothìriel released a sigh of relief and fell in her chair. She felt how her husband squeezed her hand and looked at her with relief. Then the King of Rohan turned to the Doorwarden. "Where is our son? What news do you have?"

Beornhelm spoke loudly, but couldnt conceal a slight change in his voice. He spoke with concern and hinted at fear. "He will arrive in Edoras in several minutes, my King, in the arms of his Majesty, King Elessar of Gondor and Arnor."

Éomers eyes widened and he froze for a moment. Lothíriel jumped out of her chair and rushed to his side, to find support, for she did not know if she would be able to stand. Her knees where trembling and her face was as pale as her white dress. Éowyn was held by her husband. She was concerned about her nephew, for she loved him dearly and her thoughts were with her brother and his wife. What had happened?

Without further speaking, the King and Queen of Rohan rushed outside of the Golden Hall, anxious to see their son and filled with worries for him. Beornhelm walked after them. They looked out over Edoras and saw a rider with a sparkling brow riding up the hill that led to Meduseld. The royal couple knew that it was their friend King Elessar. Éomer did not wait. He climbed down the stairs and reached Elessar when he had stopped his horse.

"Aragorn!"

Elessar dismounted and raised the unconscious body of his friends son off the horse, to take it in his arms and bring it towards Éomer. The King of Rohan couldnt believe his eyes and took Elfwine's body out of Aragorns arms. It was like a bad dream, to see his son in his current state.

Lothíriel cried out as she saw the scene and rushed down the stairs to get to her son. Tears ran over her cheeks as she saw Elfwine's injuries and pale face. Her hand trembled as she reached out to touch her son's cheek and she felt him stir beneath it. Then she looked at Aragorn. "My lord, what has happened?"

Aragorn shook his head. "I will explain later. Right now my first concern is your son. We must take him inside and put him in bed. I will see to his wounds."

Éomer wasted no time. He carried his son swiftly into Meduseld, to his chambers. He was followed by Aragorn, his wife and sister.

***************************

A strange light appeared before Elfwines eyes. It cast away the darkness he had been in for so long. Flashes of his life rushed pass his eyes. Faces of the people he knew and loved. He reached out to them, but as he nearly touched them, they faded and were out of his reach. He desperately called out to his loved ones, but it seemed as if they could not hear him. He was alone

Suddenly new faces appeared before him. He recognized them vaguely. They seemed familiar. Voices, he heard their voices calling out to him, to come back and he reached out to grab hold of it.

"Elfwine, come back."

"Listen to me, Elfwine. Return to us."

Elfwine stirred and shifted slightly. A groan was suppressed in the back of his throat. His eyelids moved and slowly but surely the young man became conscious again. He opened his eyes, but it took a while before he was completely aware of his surroundings. A moan escaped his lips and he brought a hand to his brow.

Then he heard a voice say: "Welcome back, Elfwine." The prince looked up and saw an older man sitting in a chair next to his bed. The man wore finely made garments and wore a star on his brow. "Where am I," Elfwine groaned.

"Home. In Edoras."

Then the young prince recognized the voice and face. "Lord Aragorn!" Aragorn smiled gently. "Yes, it is I. I brought you here after we found you on the plains."

Hearing those words Elfwine remembered what had happened and struggled to sit up straight. "The Orcs! My men! I..." A firm hand pushed him back into the pillows. "Easy, young one. You are injured and you need rest."

Elfwine looked at his host. "How long have I been unconscious?" "Nearly four days. You have had us all frightened for several times."

Éomer and Lothíriel entered the room and came to stand at the side of the bed. Lothíriel smiled and ran a hand through her son's hair. "What a blessing it is to see you awake. I was so afraid." Elfwine struggled to keep his eyes open. "Am sorry. I did not want this."

"Ofcourse you didn't. But it matters not, my dearest. All that matters is that you are home safe with us."

The young prince closed his eyes and returned to the lands of slumber. Aragorn rose from his chair and urged Elfwine's mother and father out of the room. "Let him sleep. He will need it and it will only help to heal his wounds."

Silently the three rulers left the room and returned to their activities, while the young prince of Rohan rested, safely within Meduseld's austere walls.  



	6. Unheard Of

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elfwine, the prince of the Riddermark, is in the process of learning to lead his people and has his own adventures in the Fourth Age of Middle Earth.

  
Several days had passed since King Elessar had found the injured prince Elfwine on the battlefield and had brought him to Edoras. There the young prince of the Rohirrim had been tended and nurtured back to health. And so it was that Eldarion, son of King Elessar and Queen Arwen Evenstar, heir to the thrones of Gondor and Arnor, found his young friend outside of the Golden Hall at another bright day. The prince of Rohan was at the training grounds of his own éored that were, save for his own presence, deserted. Eldarion smirked as he saw how Elfwine strung his bow and aimed at his target. His right arm, with which he held the bowstring, was still bandaged and his face displayed a certain amount of pain next to concentration. A frown appeared on Elfwines fair face as the arrow hit its target, but wasn't as accurate as usual and he sighed. It was then that Eldarion decided to step out of the shadows and join his friend.

"Shouldn't a soldier of the Mark remain in bed when his wounds have not fully healed yet?"

The dark haired young Rohirrim man lowered his weapon as he heard the familiar voice and turned around to look upon a man who seemed quite similar to himself. Same dark hair, same body stature, but with grey eyes instead of blue and a much calmer personality.

"Hmm."

Elfwine took up his bow once more and continued his archery training, while he answered his friend. He focussed on his target as he did so.

"I am tired of lying around in that bed all day and being able to do nothing. How can I lay still in there when there is so much work to be done?"

The heir of Gondor fetched himself a bow of his own and a few arrows as well. He positioned himself next to Elfwine and joined the young man of Rohan in his archery practise. Eldarion had no trouble at all with hitting his target.

"It is best to rest and heal now, instead of attending your duties too early and unhealed, risking the wounds to open up again and being forced to keep to bed even longer."

Hearing those words, Elfwine lowered his bow again. He scratched his head, frowned and stared at his feet. There was truth in Eldarion's words and he knew it, but could not follow the advice. Too much energy had been stored inside his body while he rested and it had made Elfwine restless. He did not want to lay in his bed for days and be of no use.

Elfwine walked towards the fences and looked out over Edoras. The capital of Rohan was faring well. Riders were riding on and off, everyone was busy. The children were shouting and running around, playing. Women were singing as they were doing their daily chores. The prince of Rohan smiled and inhaled the scents of the green fields and the horses. There was no place anywhere like Edoras. It was his home and he longed to see and keep it safe, to protect it.

His glance fell upon the fields outside of Edoras, for the view from upon the hill was great. A large group of Riders was approaching the capital city at great speed. Ahead of them rode three other Riders. It seemed as if they were racing towards the city. After a while Elfwine recognized the banner that waved in the wind, and was carried along with the Riders. It belonged to Erkenbrand, Marshal of the Westmark and Lord of the Hornburg. His coming raised many questions in Elfwine's mind.

He turned to Eldarion, who had come to stand beside him. The dark haired fair man smiled as he saw the Lord of the Westfold comign and heard the blowing of the mighty black horn. But Eldarion also noticed the questioning glances that Elfwine threw at him, soon followed aloud by a voiced question.

"Eldarion, what is going on here? Why is the Lord Erkenbrand come to Edoras?"

"Your father has summoned him. Lord Elfhelm already arrived yesterday, while you were still resting, and your grandfather, the Lord Imrahil of Dol Amroth, as well."

"What for?"

"Councils need to be given and taken. Trouble is stirring in the east and south. The hatred and evil of the Dark Lord sewed there have not yet died. Soon my father will ride out to do battle with the Easterlings of Rhûn. He has asked your father to fulfill his oath and join him."

Elfwine frowned as he heard this news. He scratched his head once more and then crossed his arms in front of his chest. Then he threw a glance at Meduseld and Erkenbrands company. A war was at hand? Why did he not know if this and why was he not asked to join this council? He was a Marshal of the Mark as well, after all, even if he were but only 21 years old, the youngest Marshal Rohan had ever known.

Eldarion could guess what was going on in Elfwine's mind. He felt the same way and explained why they were not present at the council. "Your mother begged your father not to tell you of the council and bring upon you burdens of worries and responsibilities while you were recovering from your injuries."

The young prince of Rohan sighed deeply and lowered his head. He bared his teeth and made his hands into fists. "I should have known that was my mother's doing. When will she see I am not a child anymore?"

Eldarion could not help but laugh at those words and gave his friend a friendly punch on the shoulder. Elfwine cringed for a moment, struck by pain. But he released no sound. "No matter how much time passes, Elfwine, mothers will always be mothers. You will always be your mother's little boy."

"I suppose you are right."

The two young men left the training grounds and started walking down the hill on which Edoras was built. While they were walking, they were greeted by the people. Some of them came up to the prince of the Rohirrim, aware of how injured he had been and asking him how he was faring. Elfwine answered to their questions politely. As they said goodbye, Eldarion stated something he had noticed.

"All of the Rohirrim have blond hair, yet you have inherited the darker hair of your mother. How have the responses been to that?"

Elfwine stared at his feet, overthingking his answer, while walking. He inhaled deeply and then sighed. "It was not easy. In the beginning when I was first reached my teens. I was fully aware that I was different. Some people looked down upon me and some still look at me with pity, because I am only half Rohirrim. Yet others have accepted me for who I am."

Before Elfwine could continue, chaos broke out in Edoras. Three horses entered the city at great speed, swiftly following one another. The people of Edoras hurried themselves to any safe place possible. It almost seemed like a herd of horses had escaped from the meadow.

"By Bema, what was that?" exclaimed Elfwine and he swiftly made his way to the horses that had now stopped. Eldarion followed his friend. As they arrived at the scene they saw a girl and two young men dismoutnign from their horses. The girl burst out in laughter as soon as her feet touched solid ground. She turned and stuck her tongue out at the young men. They in turn rolled with their eyes and growled in the backs of their throats. "I can't believe it. Beaten by a girl."

Elfwine had seen enough. A good race was always permissable, but not while entering a busy city like a thunderstorm. He walked over to the three young people and addressed them. "Hail you three. It is nice you enjoy yourselves so. But I must bid you not to enter Edoras so wildly next time. There are people here who might have gotten hurt."

The young men looked up as they heard the low deep voice. Their younger female companion, who resembled them a lot, turned around and stopped giggling. "You need not be so tense, Gondorian. We were merely having a bit of fun. Besides, who are you to have such a say in the city of Éomer King?"

Elfwine's eyes darkened, but he remained calm as he heard the words the blond girl had uttered. His muscles tensed slightly. If she had not been a woman, he might have not been able to resist the desire to hit her, for even if he was half Dúnadan, he had inherited his fathers Rohirric pride.

"Nevertheless he is right. You should have been more careful."

A broad shouldered and firm man came to stand with the young ones. He was dressed like a Marshal of the Mark. At his side hung a great black horn.

"Father!!" exclaimed the three young Riders.

It was indeed Erkenbrand, lord of the Westfold, himself. He looked sternly at his children. They let their shoulders hang forward and stared ashamed at their feet. "We are sorry. We will not do it again."

Erkenbrand looked at Elfwine and saw how tense the young prince was after the insult his daughter had voiced towards him. It was not correct and he would make sure his daughter would realise that.

"And this is not a Gondorian, Heruwyn, but Elfwine, Marshal of the Mark and prince of the Riddermark."

The girl's eyes, Heruwyn's eyes, widened for a moment and she regarded Elfwine from head to toes. Then she frowned and exclaimed: "But he is not blond! A Rohirrim with dark hair? That is unheard of!!"

"Quiet, Heruwyn. This is unappropriate towards your future King."

The Lord of the Westfold tapped his children on the shoulders and urged them into the direction of Meduseld. "Come. I need to report to King Éomer." The teens growled and followed their father unwillingly. Before Erkenbrand turned, he made his apoligies to the young prince, whom accepted them.


	7. Trouble in the Westmark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elfwine, the prince of the Riddermark, is in the process of learning to lead his people and has his own adventures in the Fourth Age of Middle Earth.

  
Five years later  
The blowing of a horn disturbed the peace that had been in Edoras for many days now. At once the guards at the gates were roused and they climbed on the watchtowers to see who was approaching the capital city of Rohan. A small figure coming closer and closer, continuing with blowing his horn. It did not only rouse the guards of Edoras, but also the people who inhabited the city. All came out of their houses, laying their work aside for a while, to see what was going on.

The rider was near the gates and if they were not opened, then he would certainly crash against them, so high was his speed.

"Open the gates, in the name of Erkenbrand!!"

Seeing as there was no reason why the gates would be closed and that if they didn't, an accident would happen, the guards quickly proceeded to do as was asked of them. They opened the gates as quickly as possible. When they were finally wide open, the men quickly sought a place to stand. For only a few seconds after they had gone out of the way, the rider entered the city. With some difficulty he managed to slow his horse down.

Once he was standing still, the captain of the gates came towards him and helped him off his steed. "Hail," spoke the rider. "I've come with greatest urgency from the Hornburg, carrying a message from the Lord Erkenbrand. It must be brought to Éomer King immediately." The captain guard nodded, seeing how tired and rushed the rider was. "Aye, it will be so. One of my men will bring you to the Golden Hall."

Hearing all the commotion, Elfwine came out of the stables of Meduseld. He had just returned moments ago from a patrol with his éored and had tended Wingfoot. A frown appeared on his fair face as he saw how the messenger was brought to Meduseld.

A messenger from Lord Erkenbrand, he thought to himself, and with greatest urgency. Something must be wrong. Elfwine quickly lay his things aside and walked towards Meduseld himself. Surely he would have to be at his fathers side when he received the message. News from the Marshal of the Westmark also concerned the Marshal of Edoras.

The atmosphere in the Golden Hall was tense when the young prince, now 26 years old, entered. Nearly all of his fathers counsellors were present and he saw his mother was standing next to his fathers throne. All of their faces were serious and stern, as if some great trouble had happened. Then Elfwine saw his father. Éomer's face looked stern and grim, troubled for one thing. He read the message of Erkenbrand with greatest concentration, to absorb everything of it. In front of him stood the Westfold Rider, humbly, with his helmet in his hands and staring at the ground until the King of the Mark would speak.

Éomer's concentration was disturbed when he heard light footsteps. He looked up from the piece of paper in his hands to see who was responsible for that. A certain sign of relief could be seen on the King's features when he that it was his son, standing a few feet away from him.

"Elfwine, it's good youve come before I could sent someone to get you."

The young Marshal of the Mark came closer towards the throne of his father and bowed slightly. Then he came straight to business. "What message has Lord Erkenbrand sent?"

The King sighed and handed the letter to his most trusted advisor and right hand. Elfwine took it and read slowly. His eyes widened as the message was made comprehendible in his mind. There was trouble in the Westmark! Again his eyes rushed over the markings on the paper, as if he wanted to read again to understand it better.

Villages burned down to ashes

Horses mutilated and slaughtered

The harvest taken or destroyed

Men had been killed

Women been raped

Éomer waited patiently until his son had completely read the message. Their blue eyes met as Elfwine looked up and for a moment they did only that. The silence in the Golden Hall was nerve wrecking. All counsellors were getting restless when no one spoke. Lothíriel needed only to throw one glance at her husband and son to know what was going on inside their minds. Their eyes were blazing with fire and the way Éomer held hold of his throne said enough.

After a while all noticed how the king and his heir became calmer again and regained their composure. Their breathing slowed down and their muscles relaxed. A sigh of relief could be heard. But their eyes remained full of fire.

"Who is responsible for this?"

The question was aimed at no one in particular, but Erkenbrand's messenger stepped forward and answered. "No one really knows, m'lord. The attacks happened during the night and no one has seen the attackers. Those that have, are dead now. The survivors are all coming to Helm's Deep to find refuge there, as they have nowhere else to go now. Lord Erkenbrand thinks the attacks come from Uruk Hai, descendants of the Uruk Hai Saruman created."

Éomer frowned and scratched his stubbled chin. He thought long about the steps that should be taken next. It remained silent for very long. Then the King turned to his son and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Elfwine, I want you to take a few of your men, not too many. That would rouse suspicion. Travel to Helm's Deep and meet up with Erkenbrand there. I want you to find out what is going on there."

One of the counsellors stepped forward. At first he seemed hesitant to speak, as he did not want to question his King's orders. But he had to speak and voice his concern. "My lord, would it be wise to send a Marshal to Helms Deep? And not just a Marshal, but your son?"

"Godric, my son is a very capable warrior and if he is to succeed me later, he has to face difficulties. I am sure he is able to handle this situation. I trust him. It would be wise of you to do the same."

The King of Rohan looked sternly at the counsellor and nodded at him. Shyly, the man stepped backwards, under mumbling: "Yes, my lord."

Elfwine looked at his father and nodded. "It will happen as you wish, father. I will report back to you as soon I have found something. Now, if you will excuse me, I have preparations to make."

After bowing, the son of the King and Queen left the Golden Hall and walked towards his quarters. As soon as he had entered, he closed the door and leaned against it. The dark haired young man closed his eyes and thought about his next mission.

Going to Helm's Deep. That meant he would have to face not only Erkenbrand, but his annoying children too. Elfwine cringed at the thought of the youngest of 'em, Heruwyn. The last time he had seen her was three years ago. He still remembered how she had played tricks upon him, teasing him with his Gondorian blood and never ceasing to let him know how she thought about it.

A great sigh escaped from his lips. He had tried very hard not to respond to it and to keep himself from hitting her and so far he had succeeded. But he wasn't sure if he wanted to go through all that again. Nevertheless, Elfwine started to make preparations for his departure.


	8. Pleads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elfwine, the prince of the Riddermark, is in the process of learning to lead his people and has his own adventures in the Fourth Age of Middle Earth.

The sun stood high in the sky, shining bright and warmly upon the heads of the small group of Riders that had departed from the capital Edoras three days ago. In front of them loomed up the tower of the Hornburg, the home of Lord Erkenbrand, Marshal of the Westmark. Elfwine, prince of the Mark and Marshal of Edoras, halted his horse to look upon it for a moment. He wiped some sweat, pouring down his face, off his brow with the back of his hand and took a deep breath.

There it was, in front of him. Helm's Deep. How different the valley lay before him now. A certain scent of fear, sorrow and violence hung in the air and a certain slyness too. He wondered what was going on. People were crowding outside Helms Deep and people were riding off and on.

His thoughts were disturbed by the sounds of hooves and soon Elfwine was tapped on his shoulder by one of his men. A group of Riders was coming towards them, carrying the banner of Erkenbrand. They were led by a tall young man who seemed to be some years older than Elfwine, broad and strong in figure, long blond hair flowing underneath his helmet and a heavy spear in his hand. His face was stern and grim.

The group of Riders halted in front of Elfwines company and the young man who was leading them saluted to the prince. "Hail, Lord Elfwine. I am Durranmund. My father Erkenbrand has sent me forth to greet you and lead you towards the Hornburg. He awaits you and is eager to speak with you." Elfwine nodded and looked at Helms Deep. "Let us not keep your father waiting then. I long to hear what is going on here."

Now the Riders joined as a group and rode on their steeds towards Helms Gate, just before the entrance of the Deep. At a rocky point stood heavy stone walls and inside it stood a tall tower: The Hornburg, stronghold of Erkenbrand. At the walls stood a solitary figure dressed in a white dress, which flowed freely in the wind. The soft breeze flowed through the long blond hair, made it move like a banner caught high in the air. The woman looked out over the valley and even from afar could be seen in her entire being that she was sad and worried. Elfwine looked up at her as he entered Helms Gate. He knew immediately who it was: Heruwyn, his plague.

~***~

In front of the doors that gave access to the Hornburg stood Erkenbrand, tall and strong. He was clad in the armour of a Marshal, armed and shielded. At his side hung a big black horn. He looked tired. Elfwine dismounted in front of him and led Wingfoot to the Marshal and Lord of the Westfold. "Hail, Erkenbrand. I have come." Erkenbrand only nodded and shook Elfwine's hand. "It is good you have come. Things have become worse. Nearly half of the settlements of the Westfold have now been burned down to ashes and half of the Westfolds populace now hides in Helm's Deep. In agreement with Lord Gimli, a large populace of the women and children are hiding in the Glittering Caves."

Elfwine listened carefully and looked around the Deep. "I think it is best we do not discuss this any further outside. My men will join yours at the walls and are able to scout, if you wish. Until further orders I will place them among the éored of your son." Erkenbrand nodded and led Elfwine towards the tower. As he did so he ordered Durranmund to join them.

After a long climb the three men reached Erkenbrands office. It was high in the tower and at the walls hung shields and banners with the markings of Rohan and Westfold, but also paintings of Helm. Erkenbrand positioned himself in front of a window and sighed. Elfwine lowered himself in a chair and broke the silence. "Who is causing the Westmark so much trouble?"

Durranmund answered when his father remained silent. He settled himself near his fathers desk and took a deep breath. "Who exactly is responsible remains a mystery to us as of yet. But it started a few weeks ago when villagers became restless and started to riot. Ever since then it went quickly. Village after village was set afire and all we could do was to put the fires out. Rumours are growing that the Dunlendings are the cause of all this trouble, but we do not know for sure."

Elfwine frowned and rose from his chair. Dunlendings He knew many stories of the Dunlendings, as his father had told him. This was not good. The last time the Dunlendings had been roused to attack the Rohirrim was during the War of the Ring, but they were defeated then and peace was made. They had the promise to live peacefully in Rohan and now they were throwing it all away again? That was, if the rumours were true.

Suddenly the door to the office was thrown open and landed with a big bang against the stone wall behind it. Elfwine, Durranmund and Erkenbrand turned around as fast as they could and then they saw two people standing in the opening of the door: Heruwyn and her youngest brother Deorbrand. Their eyes were as wide as saucers and they were catching their breath from the long run up the stairs to the top of the tower.

Heruwyn was the first to find her voice and threw out between gasps: "Another group of people is arriving at the gate. Another village has been struck. They keep on coming and coming."

Immediately the three men responded and while Heruwyn filled them in, they walked downstairs again. As soon as they stepped out of the door, they saw what was happening. A large group of people was entering Helms Deep, mostly women and children. Some of them came towards Erkenbrand as soon as they noticed him. In front of them walked a woman with a little boy in her arms. She held him up in the sky and turned his face. "Look at him! Look at what they did to him! He is just a little boy, he did nothing to them!" There was a large gap in the boys cheek, which had been poorly bonded and the boy was crying. "They came suddenly, setting everything afire!! There was nothing we could do!"

Erkenbrand walked over to them and tried to calm them down as good as possible. "I can assure you, nothing will happen to you here. Helms Deep is well guarded and help has been sent from Edoras. We will find the ones who did this to you and your village and we will punish them for their deeds." "But you have to do it quickly, otherwise nothing will be left!!" "We are working as fast as we can. In the meanwhile you will be brought to Aglarond and there you will be taken care of. Do not worry anymore, you will be safe here."

Elfwine went to stand next to Erkenbrand and watched as the people walked by. As he did so, he spoke softly to the Lord of the Westfold. "I have seen enough. Tomorrow I will ride the Westfold and search for anything that deals with our attackers. I must see all the damage myself." Erkenbrand nodded. "Very well, I will send Deorbrand with you. He knows which villages have been attacked and which not yet."

Erkenbrand felt how someone tugged at his cloak and looked aside. "Father" Heruwyn stood beside him with pleading eyes. "Father, Deorbrand has duties to fulfil here at the Hornburg. He has his training and serves as squire. Please father, let me show Prince Elfwine where the attacks have been. I can ride just as well, know the Westfold just as well and if we go together it will not rouse more suspicion than when two in cavalry manner dressed men search the lands. Please."

Elfwine had to suppress a growl in the back of this throat. Heruwyn, the spawn of hell, wanted to accompany him? Certainly to be more of a pain in the ass for him and call him names.

Erkenbrand noticed that and he remembered that the relationship between his daughter and the prince was not well. He rolled with his eyes and thought about it. "No, Heruwyn, it is best you stay here. It is not safe out there in the fields and Id rather not bring you into danger."

"But"

"No buts, dotohr."

Heruwyn lowered her eyes and stared sadly at her feet. "Yes, father."


	9. Lady Brat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elfwine, the prince of the Riddermark, is in the process of learning to lead his people and has his own adventures in the Fourth Age of Middle Earth.

It was getting late in the evening and the prince of the Mark was led to his rooms in the Hornburg. They were not as big as he was used to at home, but comfortable and even cosy. There were some tapestries and paintings on the wall that referred to the history of the Hornburg and of the noble families of the Westfold. Elfwine found himself studying them for a while and smiled. Then he put himself to the task of removing his sword from his belt and putting his bow and quiver at the wall as well.

A servant knocked on the door and entered, asking him if he wished anything, to which he replied a nice warm bath would be all. After the servant had disappeared, Elfwine retreated back into the dressing room and started to remove the layers of armour from his body. It was no easy task, as the armour was very heavy. A smile appeared on his fair face as he remembered the day he had first worn his armour. What a struggle it had been to walk upright. But eventually he had mastered it and now it was the most natural thing in the world for him, even if the removing issue was still a struggle. He always took very long in removing it when he was alone at the task.

And thus he was very occupied. Too occupied even to notice a soft knock on the door and to hear the door being opened. It was only until he heard a soft giggle, that Elfwine looked up. He suppressed a growl in his throat and could just control himself in rolling with his eyes. There, in the doorway of his dressing room, stood Heruwyn, with a towel around her arms. She could not hide her amusement in seeing the prince struggle with his armour.

"It seems the prince has a lot of trouble with removing his armour."

Elfwine shot an angered look at her and replied. "If you're here to make stupid comments on me, then youd better leave this room immediately, Lady."

The young lady of the Hornburg lay the towels at a table and shook her head, giggling. "On the contrary, m'lord." She then looked into the direction of the door and ordered the members of the household to fill the bathtub with water. It remained silent as the servants were doing so, and all Elfwine and Heruwyn did was exchanging glances. As soon as the servants were finished, Heruwyn ordered them to leave them alone.

She walked over to Elfwine and started to help him with removing his armour. "It seems you need help with removing your armour, oh prince of the Mark. And since I am the only one in this room with you, I'll help you." She giggled again, knowing her tone annoyed the young prince. Yet he did nothing to refrain her from helping him. "I'm not in the mood for any of your tricks and games, Heruwyn. I thought you would have grown up about now."

Heruwyn tugged at the cuirass and removed it, sneering. "Have you?"

Elfwine straightened his shoulders and stared firmly into the front of him. "I'm 26 years old, Heruwyn, and a Marshal of the Mark. I became a grown man a long time ago." He helped her getting him out of the mailshirt. Then he saw her coming to stand in front of him, with her hands on her hips and having her chin raised slightly into the air. "And you are saying I have not?"

He lowered himself on a chair, and started pulling off his boots, as if nothing had happened. Erkenbrand's youngest child still stood in front of him, cocking an eyebrow and then crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Well?" The dark haired young man chuckled. "No, you have not. You are still trying to get me down with sneering about my Gondorian heritage. Which is very childish and thus far from grown up." She shot menacing glances at him, threatening glances and turned away from him. "Fine! Then I'm not grown up."

He continued removing his clothing, and before he pulled his tunic off his body, he looked at the young Rohirric Lady. "Would you mind leaving my room now? I want to take a bath." Quickly he stepped out of his breeches as well and slipped into the hot water. All the while he kept his eyes on Heruwyn's back as she had turned her back to him. She didn't move. When he sat comfortably in the water, he saw how she braided her hair and threw a glance over her shoulder. "Sorry, m'lord. But I was asked to tend you at your bath. My nanny says it is the duty of the lady of the house to make their guests be as comfortable as they are at home." She knelt at the side of the bathtub and started washing the dark haired prince. The tension in the air was like you could cut it with a knife, but after a while, Elfwine relaxed and his eyes closed as he felt Heruwyn washing him.

"Why did you want to replace your brother in showing me around the Westfold?"

It took a while before Heruwyn answered." He's got a lot of duties here. He can't be missed, even if my father thinks so. As for me I basically just take care of the people who have fled here and sometimes help out the healers. But I'm bored and I can show you around as well." "I thought it was another one of your tricks with the intention of bringing me down with that sharp tongue of yours." Suddenly he felt a wave of warm water coming over his face. "What was that for?" he shouted harshly.

"I'm not like that always and its not why I wanted to join you!!!"

She left the piece of cloth she was washing him with in the water of the tub and walked towards the wall, leaning against it. Her shoulders hung low and she looked down at her feet. Elfwine was stunned and surprised and jumped up out of the water. But that was harder than he thought. The minute he stood on his feet, he slipped and fell back onto his behind in the wooden tub. A set of Rohirric and Gondorian curses followed shortly.

Heruwyn burst out in laughter as soon as she had noticed what had happened. She tried her best not to laugh so loudly, but she failed. The look on the princes face was just so incredibly funny as he sat there in the tub, frowning and looking annoyed. Quickly the young lady of the Hornburg grabbed a towel off the chair and walked to the tub again. A wide grin was on her face. "It seems the prince of Rohan can't even get out of his bath by himself." "It's not funny, Heruwyn." "Oh, but it is to me. You should look at yourself now." The dark haired young man sighed and rolled with his eyes.

With Heruwyn's help Elfwine got out of the bathtub and he started drying himself, while she made sure new clothes were prepared in his room. While drying, he asked: "What other reason would you have to join me then?"

She stopped with what she was doing and turned around to look at him. He was fair a bit taller than she was, even if she was a Rohirrim, and so she had to look up to look him straight into his eyes. "Those are my people out there, Elfwine. Their homes are being destroyed, their horses are being slaughtered or taken away, the men are being killed, children and women get hurt and raped. I want see what was done, I want to find out who is responsible for all that and I want to make sure they do not get away with it. Do you understand that?"

He nodded and looked down at her. "I do, I don't want anything else but to see those attackers pay for their deeds. But you shouldn't go out there. It could be dangerous and your father wouldn't want anything bad happen to you."

"I don't care! I'm not a child anymore! And I'm not afraid of danger. The entire world is dangerous. Everyone, everything, is dangerous in their own fashion. And that will not stop me from doing whatever." Her voice trembled with anger when she spoke. Her eyes were blazing with fury. She had made fists of her hands. As sudden as her anger had arisen, as quickly it faded. She stood in front of him, her eyes pleading like a small child and she came to stand closer to him.

"Please, Elfwine, please let me come with you. Please."

The young prince remained silent for a moment, not moving and not saying anything. All he did was look at the young woman in front of him. Suddenly he turned away from her and shook his head. "No, Heruwyn. Your father would kill me if I gave you permission to come with me. And I will not risk your safety either, as would he."

Heruwyn's eyes starting glowing like small fires again and she bared her white teeth. "Fine. Suit it yourself." With big steps she left the room and slammed the door closed behind her, leaving Elfwine, draped in his towel, behind as he shook his head.

 


End file.
